The World Was Just a Subway Map
by broadwaypants
Summary: When you live in New York City, you have to know the tricks of the trade.  Kurt doesn't know the tricks to either of his trades.  Enter Mike Chang, who pops up in Kurt's life at the opportune moment and takes him on a journey of self-discovery.
1. Chapter 1

Surprisingly enough, it was Mike who initiated communication with all of them.

It's not like New Directions had had a falling out or anything. It's just hard to keep in touch with eleven other people when your lives are suddenly filled with college courses, new friends, underage drinking, one-night stands, and homework assignments. You only keep in touch with the select few that actually mattered to you in the first place.

So Kurt's surprised – and pleasantly so – when he logs onto facebook and sees that he has a message from Mike. He clicks it eagerly, eyes scanning the page almost hungrily. He's always eager for news when one of his old friends sends him something.

_Hello, all!_

_I sent this message to you all specifically because I know that you live (or lived, and apologies for the waste of time if this is the case) in the New York City area. I've recently moved into a new neighborhood in Brooklyn, and I was hoping to have a gathering to celebrate. Sort of a new friends meet old friends mixer, I guess._

_I'm sure most of you are busy, but I'm more than willing to be flexible with dates and times, so if you could let me know which days are best for you, that would be great._

_Mike_

Kurt looked up at the header, noticing that, among the unfamiliar names, he spotted Rachel, Tina, and Matt. He took a moment to remember how the three of them had ended up in the city.

Rachel got into Juliard, Tina was at Maymount Manhattan, and Matt… well, he and Mike were best friends, so it made sense to include him regardless.

He scanned the rest of the names, trying to pick out someone familiar, and the name "Jesse St. James" popped out at him. Kurt smiled; he knew that Jesse had transferred from UCLA to another school in NYC, he just didn't remember where. Any animosity between Jesse and New Directions had been water under the bridge for quite some time. Kurt had even run into Jesse at a party once, though Jesse had been too intoxicated to remember him. But Kurt had hoisted Jesse up and dragged him into the nearest bathroom, splashing water on the man's face until he could think (and walk) straight.

He pulled his planner closer to him, flipping through it and marking off a few dates that were free. He typed a quick reply to Mike, saying how glad he was to hear from him and that he hoped their free days would coincide. He did miss all his old friends, and it would be nice to see a few of them again.

After sending the reply, Kurt shut off his computer and got to business. It was hard finding work in New York City, especially since he had studied both fashion design and theatre in college. It's not like he had people pounding down his door asking him for input or to sing at a workshop. He'd managed to find an internship quickly after graduation that still afforded him time to seek out auditions and hold a part time job at a consignment shop. It's wasn't the glamorous New York lifestyle his high school self had imagined, but it was comfortable and he was happy.

He tucked his resume and his headshot in his bag before heading off to work; he had an audition later in the evening. He got on his usual train, heading from the upper heights of Long Island into the more tourist-y parts of the city. Kurt hated tourists, but they were where the money was.

He found himself flashing back to his old glee club days during his train ride, remembering how Mike had always been so quiet and, to a point, reserved. The only time he had really captured their attention – and not because of his dance moves – was when he and Tina had dated for a short time. That had caused quite the fuss over friendships and loyalties and Kurt remembered how he had grudgingly sided with Tina when he would have much rather been popping wheelies in the spare wheelchairs with Artie and Finn.

"So who is he?" Kurt's co-worker, Marigold ("The name is Mari! Don't call me that hideous excuse for a name ever again, dick-head!") asked him, drumming her fingernails on the glass counter and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" Kurt straightened up, unaware that he had drifted into thought – again – while on his shift at the register.

"Honey, there are only two things in the world that put that look on your face," Mari pointed at him, smirking. "You've either had one hell of a good night in the sack and you're thinking about the chiseled god waiting for you in your bed, or you've started flirting with the little sixteen-year-old at Starbucks again."

Kurt's face purpled.

"I told you, he looked older!"

Mari held up her hands, still smirking.

"And don't call him little," Kurt put his hands on his hips. "For your information, he's six-foot-two."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," Mari gave a tittering laugh. She bent closer to him, resting her elbows on the counter and her chin across her folded fingers. "But anyhow, you must give me the nasty details. Did this one leave a hickey behind your ear?" She craned to get a look. Kurt swatted her away.

"No, Mari, I wasn't doing anything of the sort last night," Kurt's jaw stiffened. "I was thinking back to my days in high school, if you must know."

"And about the time you sucked off the quarterback in that shoe-fella's office?"

Kurt's face turned even redder, and he spluttered for a few moments before he could wrap his tongue around the words.

"Remind me to never tell you about any of my sex dreams again."

"Oh, was that one a dream?" Mari closed one eye and tilted her head, trying to remember. "Kurt, honey, you know better than anyone that I don't remember _those_ kind of details."

Kurt glared at her. Mari glared back.

"So are you going to tell me his name or not?" Mari asked, finally, leaning back to give Kurt his personal bubble back.

"There is no 'he,'" Kurt said defiantly. "I was simply thinking about the time I had in high school with some wonderful, close friends. I got a message from one of them earlier today, and it was a nice surprise, since I hadn't spoken to him for a while."

"Ha-_ha_!" Mari clapped and pointed at him. "What's his name?"

"Mike," Kurt rolled his eyes. "But that's not the point. He's just a friend."

"So far," Mari waggled her eyebrows.

"No," Kurt said firmly. "Mike is my friend. Not a frieind-with-benefits or a fuck-buddy, just a friend. That's all we ever were. And we weren't exactly the closest of friends, either, so we never even reached the stage where we could joke about that sort of thing."

"Yeah, that was you and Fuck, right?" Mari laughed loudly, attracting the attention of the poor gentleman over by the coat rack. Kurt smiled apologetically at him before hissing, "His name was Puck, and you know that full well!"

Mari waved a hand, still laughing. "Oh, details," she said dismissively. "I can call that stud whatever the hell I want."

Kurt made a vow to never speak to Mari ever again. It was her fault, after all, that his cheeks started burning and his stomach flipped over as soon as he logged into facebook and saw a little red flag telling him he had a new message. All her fault.

_'I am so buying her that hideous blouse with marigolds on it for Christmas,'_ Kurt decided, ignoring his stomach as he read the new message.

_Hello again!_

_I've looked over the dates you all sent me, and the only one that works for everyone is the 17th. So the 17th it is! Let's say five to midnight, since that should give everyone enough time to at least pop in to say hello. If you're arriving around the dinner hour, I wouldn't turn away a small, prepared dish, either._

_Hope to see you all soon!_

_Mike_

Kurt was not trying to come up with recipes that were purposely complicated and intricate just to impress him, not at all.

Stupid Mari.

* * *

Kurt pressed the buzzer of Mike's building, a box of assorted, homemade gourmet cookies tucked under his arm and a pie pan balanced on his other hand. He had always had a flair for expensive and intricate desserts, after all. It had only taken him seven hours for just the pie, and that was practically no time at all.

"Hello?" a voice greeted him through the speaker, and he recognized it as Rachel's.

"Rachel Berry," he smiled, hoping she would hear it in his voice.

"Kurt!" she all but squealed his name, and the door clicked open. It took a little shuffling, but he got inside and made his way up to Mike's floor. He hoped the doors would be clearly labeled; his own apartment building was lacking in that area and it had taken Kurt two circles of the floor to figure out that all the zeros had been stolen.

But he needn't have worried. Mike had put two balloons on his door and there was a piece of paper that read, "Mike's Pad" taped just below the peephole. Kurt tested the handle, found that the door was unlocked, and let himself in.

He was immediately accosted by two pairs of hands grabbing his pie and cookies, then pulling him into a tight bear hug that made him feel like his head was about to pop off.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Rachel exclaimed, her wild hair in his face and obscuring his view.

"It's been forever!" Tina's voice said in his left ear, telling him that the other pair of hands belonged to her. Kurt squeezed the two girls briefly before letting go, holding both at an arm's length to get a good look at them.

He was most surprised with Rachel's appearance. The animal sweaters and Catholic schoolgirl skirts were gone, replaced by an extremely flattering red dress. Her hair was still thick and shiny, but for whatever reason it looked nicer and more cared for than it had back in high school. He would have to ask her what she had been putting in it.

Tina was wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans and a frilly, short-sleeved blouse. Her hair was no longer streaked with color, but it was just as long and straight as he remembered. He was pleased to see that she had toned down the makeup, opting for a more natural look, especially around her eyes.

"You two look breathtaking," he said truthfully, beaming at them.

"Come on," Rachel grabbed his arm. "I want you to meet my boyfriend!" Kurt laughed, allowing Rachel to pull him over to the side of the room, where a tall man was chatting with another, shorter man. Rachel put a hand on the taller of the two's arm, and he turned and grinned at her.

"Kurt, this is Gavin," Rachel looped her arm though his. "Gavin was my co-star in the off-Broadway production of _These Four Walls_."

"Nice to meet you," Kurt nodded, still smiling. "I'm afraid I know nothing about that particular production, however. Play or musical?"

"Play," Rachel answered immediately. "Shocking, isn't it? Me in a play. But it's been nothing but a joy every night."

"I play the sexually frustrated, mute painter," Gavin explained, his voice much deeper than Kurt had been expecting.

"And I play his best friend who keeps telling him to get out and get some!" Rachel giggled.

"Sounds…" Kurt struggled for the correct word, "interesting."

"Oh, it is," Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "It's one of the only plays out there where the main character doesn't utter a single word, not even in a recorded voice-over!"

"That's," Kurt was about to say 'lovely,' but he caught sight of a familiar face waving over Rachel's shoulder, "Is that Jesse?"

But Jesse was already walking over to them, a smile on his face. Gavin's expression darkened, something that did not go unnoticed by both Rachel and Kurt. Rachel's grip on Gavin's arm tightened.

"Kurt!" Jesse took the smaller man by surprise when he pulled him into a hug. "How've you been?"

It took Kurt a minute to both form an answer and hug Jesse back, but he eventually did both.

"Great," he said as Jesse released him. "And you?"

"Perfect," Jesse bragged, a haughty tone in his voice. "I've just landed a role in the new Broadway musical _Dorm de Dorm_. It's a musical comedy that satirizes college life." He puffed out his chest as he added, "I got the lead."

"Gavin read the part in the workshop," Rachel hissed in Kurt's ear. Kurt looked from Jesse to Gavin, realizing that this was just another New Directions vs. Vocal Adrenaline fight that he didn't want to get involved in.

"Nice meeting you," he said quickly to Gavin, "and it was nice seeing you again, Jesse. I'm going to find our host and offer my congratulations on his new place."

He made his exit as Gavin and Jesse started a staring contest.

"Good move," Tina reappeared at his side. "Don't get caught in the crossfire."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Kurt shook his head. "Honestly, it's like we're back in high school. And here I thought things with Jesse were patched up and we could all behave like responsible adults."

"You know Rachel," Tina giggled softly. "She loves her drama." Kurt couldn't help but giggle along with her.

"Mike's over in the kitchen," Tina pointed to the far end of the room, where Mike was standing with his back to them. Kurt headed over, ignoring the fact that his clothes suddenly felt very tight and very hot.

"Hi, Mike," he said, reaching out to place a hand on the man's arm. Mike was smiling as he turned to greet Kurt, his eyes twinkling and looking almost exactly the same as he had back in high school, the only difference being a few inches in height.

"Hey, Kurt," Mike stooped down to give him a brief one-armed hug. "I'm so glad you made it!"

"Me too," Kurt laughed. "It's so great to see you and Tina and Rachel again. Where's Matt?"

"Oh, he's not coming," Mike shrugged.

"Why not?" Kurt's brain was moving a mile a minute, already coming up with stories about how Mike and Matt had had some sort of falling out where Matt had moved across the country to get away from his ex-best friend.

"He still lives in Ohio," Mike explained. "I just added him to the message out of habit."

"Oh," Kurt nodded, pleased that the two were, obviously, still good friends. "That makes sense." He grinned, adding, "I invited Mercedes to a party one of the girls at work had a few weeks ago."

"It's hard living without your other half," Mike shrugged again. "But hey, New York City is the perfect place to get out and explore and find yourself and all that sentimental bullshit, right?"

"Too true," Kurt laughs. "So have you," he finger-quoted the term, "'found yourself' yet?"

"Meh," Mike turned half around, grabbing hold of a wooden spoon that was sticking out of a pot on the stove and starting to stir whatever was inside. "I mean, I've landed some amazing dancing gigs. A couple music videos here and there, I was in the last dance-centered musical on Broadway, and my name's out there, so I guess you could say I've found my place in the world."

"That's fantastic," Kurt tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice. "It's a hard business to get into and stay in once you get there."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Mike shook his head. "No, I'll never forget it, I landed my first music video role and during rehearsals I rolled my ankle. It swelled up like a freaking football and I couldn't even walk on it, so obviously I lost the job. My physical therapist literally had to tie me to the bed to get me to stop over-working it. It was like the world was ending because I lost one job, you know?"

"I get it," Kurt agreed. "I've read parts for a few workshops, but I haven't made it further than that. And my career in fashion hasn't really taken off either, so I work at a consignment shop to pay the bills."

"You should try Starbucks," Mike took the spoon out of the pot and tasted it. He pursed his lips, then held out the spoon to Kurt. "Here, what do you think?" Kurt let Mike spoon the rest of the liquid into his mouth, frowning with concentration then saying, "It's a little bland."

"My thoughts exactly," Mike grabbed the salt-shaker and dumped a liberal amount into the liquid, choosing another spoon and stirring it some more. "But yeah, try Starbucks."

"What do you mean?" Kurt was confused. He already had a job, so why look for another that had nothing to do with fashion or theatre?

"It's supposed to be a really good place for actors to work," Mike explained. "You have to memorize a bajillion different drinks, so that helps with memorizing lines. Plus, everyone goes to Starbucks, producers and directors and working actors included."

"Fair point," Kurt smiled. "I'll have to look into that. Thanks, Mike."

It was surprising just how knowledgeable Mike was when it came to the theatre. Kurt listened in on a conversation Mike had later in the evening with Jesse, where the two talked all about the shows they had been in and laughing about how, for one particular show they had both been in together off-Broadway, Mike had ended up being Jesse's understudy.

"Which was complete bullshit, because they know I'm a dancer, not a freaking actor," Mike slapped his leg, eyes watering with tears. "The one night you weren't there, I practically had to beg Val to go on for you. Poor guy was terrified, but he went on and then got bumped up to first cover the next day!"

"And then he got the job when the show went on tour!" Jesse laughed as well, considerably less egotistical and bitter than he had been in high school. "I'm not complaining, though, because that's what got my foot in the door for my Broadway debut."

This was a very different Mike than the one he had gone to high school with. This was a man who was outgoing and lived his life as openly as possible, holding two conversations at once and laughing louder than anyone else in the room. He held himself with grace and confidence, and yet he still had not lost the friendliness that Kurt had found so admirable in high school.

And now that he was paying attention (thanks, Mari), he had to admit that Mike was certainly quite attractive, in both looks and personality.

Later in the evening, after most of Mike's friends had left, Rachel pulled Kurt, Mike, and Tina aside, informing them that they had to take a picture together.

"This is like a mini-reunion!" she exclaimed, arms tight around Kurt and Tina's shoulders.

"Shouldn't Jesse be in the picture too?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself, waving over the older man, who suddenly looked nervous.

"Yeah, Jesse, get over here!" Mike agreed, beckoning before Rachel had a chance to object. Jesse chose the spot next to Mike on the end, avoiding Rachel's glare. Gavin had a nasty expression on his face when he raised the camera to take the picture, but he didn't say anything. Kurt, who was sandwiched in-between Mike and Rachel, could practically feel the tension, but he smiled and tried not to let it bother him.

* * *

Kurt applied for a job at a Starbucks in the theatre district the next day. Mike was right; he recognized countless theatre actors coming and going. One of the employees had even gotten on good terms with a Broadway director by remembering what time he always came in and having his favorite drink waiting for him when he arrived.

It wasn't as if Starbucks was the magical gateway to landing a part on Broadway. Far from it, Kurt found out once he started working there. He had to make an effort to start conversations with the people that came in, because most of the time they were in a hurry. This was easiest when there wasn't a line of other people waiting, obviously, which explained why nobody wanted to work the breakfast and lunch shifts. They all wanted the weird hours where people would straggle in alone.

That was how Kurt got stuck with the post-performance rush shift, working from 10 pm to closing most nights. He was bombarded with tourists clutching Playbills, then, shortly after, the stars of the show, wearing big sunglasses to hide their stage makeup and hats because their hair was still pinned up. It was mainly the backup dancers and ensemble members who came dressed like that; the stars of the shows all looked presentable and washed up.

It was actually kind of nice, Kurt found. A couple big Broadway names made a habit out of coming in just as they were about to put up the closed sign, so as not to attract any unwanted attention from fans who were also getting a post-show drink. One particularly well-known actress actually remembered Kurt from a time they had read a workshop together, and Kurt copied his co-worker and always had a drink ready for her when she came in.

This paid off when she slipped him a casting notice for the show she was currently starring in.

"Most of the ensemble's contracts are up," she told him, muttering out of the side of her mouth as she pretended to dig in her purse for her wallet. "There aren't any name roles up for grabs yet, but from the looks of things, Harry's going to be gone within a month. Make sure you try for the track that understudies his role." She slid a Playbill for the show across the counter with her money. "Keep the change." She winked at him as she turned to leave, holding up a hand to stifle his thank you.

Kurt was so busy stowing the casting notice and the Playbill into the pocket of his apron that he didn't notice Mike Chang sitting at the table by the window, watching him. He looked up, face flushed, when Mike started to clap.

"Now that's the way to do it," Mike grinned broadly, coming over to the counter. "Mind whipping me up something with too much sugar to be healthy?" Kurt noticed that Mike was wearing eyeliner and blush, so he asked, "Did your show just end?"

"Yep," Mike leaned against the counter lazily, still grinning. "I probably look like a complete moron, wearing stage makeup outside of the theatre, but hey, it's New York City. Nobody looks at you twice. I mean, if I was doing _Cats_ or something they would, but this is, like, completely normal."

Kurt laughed as he started making Mike his requested sugary drink. "That's true," he agreed. "So what show are you doing now?"

"_West Side Story_. It's kind of awesome, being the only Asian in a cast full of white people and Latinos. I'm pretty sure they didn't know which gang to put me in for a while, too, because they had me doing the Jets' dance in rehearsals for about two weeks before they changed their minds and made me a Shark. Oh, and here's the best part: I understudy Bernardo. Do I look like a Bernardo to you?"

"I'm gonna go with no," Kurt shook his head, starting the blender and cutting the conversation off for a few seconds.

"Whatever, it gives me a higher paycheck, understudying him," Mike shrugged. "I'm not complaining."

"Whipped cream?" Kurt asked, pouring Mike's drink into a plastic cup.

"Yes please," Mike straightened up, craning his neck to watch Kurt finish his drink. "So what did you give me?"

"A toffee mocha frappuccino," Kurt said, sprinkling the top with chocolate powder. "What do you think?"

"I think it looks like the most delicious thing I've ever seen in my entire life," Mike dug his wallet out of his pocket, but Kurt waved the hand that was not holding the drink, saying, "Think of it as a late congratulations gift for landing a role in _West Side Story_." He set the drink down on the counter, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Mike picked it up and took a sip, making an appreciative "mmmm" sound.

They ended up walking around outside a bit, after Kurt's co-worker all but shoved him out the door, saying he would take care of closing the shop. She clearly was under the impression that they were dating. Kurt made a mental note to explain that they were just friends at some point during their next shift together.

"You excited for the audition?" Mike asked, getting straight to the point.

"More completely shocked and not quite prepared," Kurt admitted. "I mean, I only found out about it five minutes ago."

"But hey, what did I tell you?" Mike grinned, the straw of his drink between his teeth. "Starbucks is the place to get your foot in the door."

"And I am forever indebted to you, oh wise one," Kurt bobbed his head in a half-bow.

"You have to let me know how the audition goes," Mike's voice was slightly demanding. "I want to come see you if you get the part." Kurt's face flushed, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He'd never thought to go see Mike's show. He stayed silent for a moment too long, though, because Mike said quickly, "Don't worry about it."

"No, that was rude," Kurt looked at the ground as they walked, wrinkling his nose when he spots a used, discarded condom. "I should have asked."

"You'll come the next time you're not working the after show shift," Mike decided for him. "And don't beat yourself up about it."

Kurt thought that Mike must have gotten used to being forgotten back in high school. He had slunk into the background after he and Tina had broken up, never once demanding the spotlight when he wasn't dancing. But there was a fine line between being in the background and being forgotten, and Kurt wasn't about to make Mike re-live those days of being forgotten. He wasn't going to let Mike stay in a supporting role. He was going to let Mike be the star.

Kurt sat down on a bench, crossed his legs, and said, "Tell me how you got to New York City."

They sat for three hours, Mike talking and Kurt listening. It was one of the most eye-opening and enjoyable conversations Kurt had ever had in his entire life.


	2. Chapter 2

_To all those that asked, yes this is going to be a multi-chapter. It's a work in progress prompted from the Mike/Kurt summer love fic fest over on livejournal._

_

* * *

_

Their friendship formed and molded itself over medium-sized frappuccinos with extra whipped cream and two straws.

It was an easy and pressure-free relationship. Mike never pressed Kurt for details when he didn't land the role in the show, and Kurt never asked what happened when _West Side Story_ had a cast change and Mike wasn't bumped up. They simply let the other talk about what he wanted to focus on, knowing that they'd more than likely be getting a call two hours later spilling the whole story.

But if Kurt had one complaint, it was his own timidity when it came to bringing up romantic relationships. He wasn't about to ask Mike on a date, not when he had just formed this wonderful friendship, but he wished he knew more about Mike's personal life. Mike never mentioned anyone special and Kurt knew for a fact that the only pictures in Mike's apartment were of his family, him and Matt, and various cast pictures from the shows he'd been in.

Kurt should have known better than to worry. Things with Mike just seemed to work themselves out naturally without any prodding, so he shouldn't have been surprised when Mike asked him completely out of nowhere, "So I kind of have to ask, since we've started hanging out on an almost unhealthily often basis. Am I stealing quality alone time from you and a boyfriend?"

He put it in such a 'sarcastic bastard' kind of way, too, which was another personality trait of his that Kurt loved.

"No," Kurt shook his head, then took a sip of the caramel frappuccino that rested on the table between them. "And funnily enough, my last relationship ended the day before you sent the message about your apartment-warming party."

Mike said nothing, just took a sip of the drink and raised his eyebrows, an invitation to continue talking. He wasn't about to butt into Kurt's business if Kurt didn't want to share.

"It's actually really embarrassing," Kurt felt his cheeks flushing. "His name was Grant and I met him at a Starbucks, actually. He was cute and I flirted a little and he gave me a medium-sized drink when I paid for a small and wrote his number on the cup. I found out that he was only sixteen after two dates."

Mike actually spat out his sip of the drink, he was laughing so hard.

"Shut it," Kurt folded his arms, frowning. "Come on, that's not nearly as bad as our English teacher from senior year admitting he dated a seventeen year old for four months before realizing how old she was."

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Mike protested. Kurt just glared at him, pulling a napkin out of the dispenser and wiping the table clean of Mike's spit.

"Fine, then, it is funny," Kurt admitted. "But it was horribly embarrassing at the time, when I started telling him all about college and realizing that he had thought I was still in high school."

"Curse your boyish good looks," Mike grinned. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You would not believe how much of a nightmare it is when I go to a bar," Kurt let his head fall to rest in his arms, speaking to the table. "It takes them at least two minutes to decide that my ID's not fake, but then the bartender cards me before every drink, expecting me to slip up and hand them a high school ID or something."

"You poor thing," Mike let his hand rest on Kurt's head for a few seconds. "You'll have to deal with the absolute horror of looking younger than you really are for your entire life."

Kurt lifted his head up enough to glare at Mike again.

"Well, go on, then," he prompted. "Tell me about your love life."

"I'm not with anyone right now," Mike took their shared cup between his hands, spinning it on the table. He was suddenly jittery, Kurt noticed. "I used to be dating another dancer from a show, but that didn't work out."

"Woe is we," Kurt said dramatically, sitting back up. "Well, at least we can be single and happy together."

"True," Mike stopped spinning the drink. "Shit, now I forget whose straw is whose."

"Because it's such a disgusting thought to share a straw with me, thanks," Kurt pulled the drink closer to himself, taking a sip out of the closest straw. "Oh no, boy cooties!"

"Ha, ha," Mike said sarcastically.

"Well, it is good to know that I won't have any jealous girlfriend yelling at me for stealing her man," Kurt backtracked. "I mean, come on, gay barista shares drink with sexy dancer? Sketchy!"

"Boyfriend," Mike said, straw between his teeth.

"What?"

Mike took a sip of the drink first, then repeated, "Boyfriend. Jealous boyfriend."

It really said something about the nature of their friendship when all this statement was met with was, "Awesome, I can actually take you to my favorite bar now."

* * *

Kurt learned quickly that Mike had two sides to his personality. Well, obviously there were more than two, but there were two big ones that seemed to come out all the time.

The first one was Mike's sarcastic bastard side, as Kurt dubbed it. He could get snarky and sometimes downright mean about things sometimes, but it was always in good fun. Mike never left someone with any doubt that he was making fun of himself just as much as he was making fun of them, so they knew not to take it too personally.

Then there was deep, philosophical Mike. This side of Mike would go for long walks in Central Park. This Mike would sit on a bench for two hours, just staring off into space, thinking. This Mike would start conversations out of nowhere, simply asking an almost annoyingly open-ended question and pursuing its answer stubbornly until everyone was more confused than they had been when the conversation started.

And Kurt kind of loved it.

He loved how Mike would switch from one to the other almost instantaneously, laughing over some poor girl's bright pink stockings one second to pondering why the color pink has such a negative connotation in modern day society.

He and Mike started exploring the city around them. They would take the subway and get off at a stop at random, walking around until they were hopelessly lost. Mike was never afraid to ask for directions back when that happened. He would embellish this simple question, too, leaving Kurt doubled over with laughter and their poor savior looking at them, completely bewildered.

"Hello," Mike would say in a heavy Chinese accent, walking up to an elderly gentleman walking his dog. "I new here. Got lost with mail-order husband." He would wave absent-mindedly towards Kurt before asking, "Subway?"

Or another gem: "My twin brother and I got lost again. Can you help us out? And yes, before you ask, we're fraternal. I'm all Mom and he's all Dad."

These escapades turned into a weekly tradition. They would explore for hours, losing track of time and talking about anything and everything.

"Are you disappointed?" Mike asked one afternoon as they walked through a new neighborhood in the Bronx.

"With what?" Kurt asked, not quite sure what Mike meant.

"With how your life turned out." Deep, philosophical Mike was talking to him, apparently. "I mean, I remember back in high school we were all convinced that we would make it big. Rachel was going to be a huge Broadway celebrity, you were going to be some hot new fashion designer, Mercedes was going to get a record contract, I was going to get on So You Think You Can Dance and win, you know."

"We were kids," Kurt reasoned. "Kids dream. Adults can dream too, but those dreams have to change. We have to take it down a notch, look for ways to slowly achieve that dream, then settle when we don't make it."

"Did you settle, then?"

"I guess," Kurt pointedly looked in the opposite direction. "No. No, I'm not settling; I'm just waiting."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting to be discovered."

Well, that certainly sounded egotistical and pathetic. He was almost embarrassed to have said it out loud. Had he been talking to anyone but Mike, he would have tried to backtrack and cover it up. But he was used to telling Mike things he wouldn't even consider telling other people. Mike never laughed at him. Unless he deserved it, that is.

"And what are you doing to get discovered?" Mike pressed for more.

"I'm still interning," Kurt supposed that that counted. "And I went to another audition the other day. Maybe one of those two things will actually go somewhere."

"That's a start."

"What do you mean, 'that's a start'?" Kurt frowned, looking over at Mike. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't, I dunno, it's not like I can open my own business or something. I can't jump into a lead role; I have to audition and actually get my name out there first."

"Why?"

This was deep, philosophical, and annoyingly persistent Mike. Bastard.

"Because I want to live somewhere that's not under a bridge using a newspaper as a blanket."

"I guess that's fair," Mike shrugged.

"You guess?" Kurt crossed his arms. "All right then, Mister all-knowing. What are you doing to reach your dream?"

"I am living my dream."

"No you're not," Kurt argued. "You just said that your dream was to get on So You Think You Can Dance."

"That was high school Mike," Mike smirked. "Grown-up Mike decided that reality TV was stupid and that Broadway was a better goal." Then he chuckled, adding, "And I did go to the casting call for the last season, so shut up."

Kurt couldn't help but giggle.

"That's the problem with our chosen career paths," Mike kept going, the look on his face telling Kurt that philosophical Mike was back. "We rely on other people's judgment of our talents to get us somewhere. We can't do it ourselves, because in order to do that, we need an extremely wealthy relative to die, or something. I can dance as much as I want, but if I'm not what someone's looking for, it's like all I've done was useless. It's the kind of thing that will get you down if you're not strong enough to push through the rejection."

"Very true."

"And it makes success that much better, too," Mike grinned.

"I wish we could just start our own Broadway," Kurt thought aloud. "Everyone who didn't make the final cut of whatever else could come to us and we'd put on shows just for fun. We could do whatever we wanted."

"You could put us all in flattering costumes that make our asses look nice."

"Shut up, that was purely coincidental!" Kurt flushed at the memory. It hadn't been his fault that the outfit had worked out that way.

"Whatever," Mike rolled his eyes. "But I could practically feel my entire cast staring at my ass the entire time I had that thing on."

"And how do you know you don't just have a nice ass?" Kurt shot back.

"Maybe I do," Mike was grinning again. "But those pants definitely helped."

"You're so full of it," Kurt groaned. "And why do you always have to be right?"

"Because I am always right," Mike puffed out his chest. "Watch." He waved at a girl walking in the opposite direction, saying, "Excuse me! Hey, quick question. What do you think of my ass?"

* * *

"This is a really stupid idea."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, actually, it is."

"Then leave."

"I can't; we've got to go in pairs."

"Then why are you complaining? That's not gonna magically make everything better."

"I know that! Just let me be miserable for a minute. Indulge me, for once."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because that's what friends are supposed to do."

"Oh, are we friends today? So I don't get to tell that guy across the room that you're my female-to-male transgendered sister and if he looks at you like that one more time I'll kick his ass?"

"Okay, where did that one come from? Seriously, you need to stop with these increasingly creepy backstories."

"Not my fault I'm just awesomely creative."

"Whatever." A pause. "Which guy?"

"You whore!"

"Right, says the guy who made out with a _lesbian_ the last time I took him to a gay bar."

"Hey, she kissed me first."

"Doesn't matter; you still did it. Now, which guy?"

"I'm not telling. He looks like he'll date-rape you."

"I hate you."

"Love you too."

"Right. If you loved me you'd tell me which one he is. Or indulge me and let me complain."

"Shut up. It's good practice. Neither one of us are actually going to land a role."

"Speak for yourself. I'm going in like I've already got the role."

"That's so Jesse St. James of you. And what happened to 'this is a terrible idea'?"

"Oh, is Jesse an adjective now? Don't tell him about that or I think his head might just swell even more."

"He's actually not all that bad. Now you just sound like Rachel."

"I _know_ he's not all that bad. Now shut up and let me be miserable and try to figure out which one of those guys you're trying to keep me away from."

"Honestly, sometimes I think you're still just a horny sixteen year old."

"Are you making fun of my boyish good looks?"

"Yes."

"Well, at least you're being honest, I guess."

"Kurt Hummel and Mike Chang, please come to room five."

Mike made Kurt hold his hand on the way in. When Kurt raised an eyebrow, he said, "Just getting into character." Kurt just rolled his eyes and knew he really did it so whatever guy had been eyeing him would think he was taken.

* * *

They weren't entirely sure which god up there had smiled on them and showered them with luck, but when they both got the phone call at the same second and got the news that yes, they had both landed the parts, both of them couldn't help but pray to the unnamed theatre gods.

Because they had just landed the roles of Jason and Peter in a limited, week-long performance of _bare_.

It had been Mike's idea. He was still in _West Side Story_ and Kurt was still working at Starbucks, and neither of them had landed lead roles since college, but Mike wanted to try anyway. He had reasoned that it would be good practice and that even though he wasn't a singer and Kurt didn't have any big shows on his resume, they had a pretty fair shot.

It helped that they could do the audition together. The director obviously thought they had the chemistry that Jason and Peter needed, and the fact that Kurt still looked sixteen probably helped too.

But the kissing scenes were just plain weird.

Kurt would be flat out lying if he said he had never wondered what kissing Mike would be like. Even though his feelings for Mike were purely platonic, he couldn't ignore the fact that Mike was quite nice to look at. 'Nice to look at' translated to: 'I'm still a gay man who hasn't had a boyfriend in what feels like forever, and my best guy friend is super hot.'

The first time they rehearsed the scene was in a tiny little room with just them and the director, Courtney. She said she wanted to get a feel for the relationship they already had before bringing in the rest of the cast, so she just gave them free rein.

"Just go with it," was all the direction she gave, waving her hands and sitting down and telling them to start from the beginning of _You and I_.

So they did. They got the sarcastic, teasing nature down instantly, because that was exactly what their relationship was. Minus the whole boyfriend thing, obviously. So when they got to the touchy-feely parts, it got awkward. Sometimes during their walks they would link arms or hold hands, but nothing more than that.

If Kurt was being honest, their first attempt at the first kiss was really funny. Kurt's character was supposed to go all out while Mike's character was supposed to pull back, but they ended up doing exactly the opposite. Kurt was standing on his tip-toes and lost his balance just as Mike's lips touched his, so he wobbled backwards and almost fell over. Mike moved with him, looking like he was trying to keep kissing him.

After that first attempt, Courtney had stepped in to help. She told them to just keep it a stage kiss for now, if that would help. She made sure that Kurt stayed flat on his feet and had Mike stoop down. She made them freeze mid-kiss to fix where they had their hands. And while having one hand on another guy's chest and the other holding onto his jacket was nice, it was just weird knowing that the 'other guy' was Mike.

They would have to work on that.

And Mike wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"Was that just as awkward for you as it was for me?" he asked, as soon as they left and were on their own.

"Yeah," Kurt felt his face heat up. "It just felt weird."

"I know," Mike agreed. "So let's figure out why."

Kurt really didn't want to have this conversation. It was like he was back in tenth grade and he was still trying to make Finn understand that no, he was not going to try to seduce him. That was why he hadn't had many guy friends: sooner or later, they would have to have this conversation.

So talk quickly and get it over with. That would work.

"You're probably one of my best friends," Kurt blurted out. "And I'm not saying that because I want to get those stupid matching necklaces or something; I'm saying it because I truly value your friendship and you have been there for me since your party. I don't want anything to ruin that, because I've seen what can happen when a gay guy tries to be friends with another guy, regardless of his sexual orientation. And so far, we've just been friends with platonic feelings for each other and I don't want any stupid pretend kissing to screw that up."

"Nice word vomit," Mike smirked. Kurt punched his arm.

"I'm trying to be honest here," he said defensively.

"No, no, I get that," Mike nodded quickly. "But you know me. Sometimes I can't help it." He cleared his throat, then continued. "But yeah, that basically sums it up. I mean, we're both single and have compatible sexualities, but so far we've avoided that weird I-want-to-do-you-but-that-would-ruin-our-friendship thing that can happen. And I guess I'm just a little worried that playing boyfriends could change that."

"Good, so we're both on the same page," Kurt looked at his lap, not wanting to look at Mike. "So, um, I guess all we can really do is hope that nothing weird happens? And just play out the scenes and be honest with each other?"

"Yes," Mike agreed. "Let's promise each other right now that if those platonic friendship feelings ever change, we'll say something. No unspoken sexual tension allowed."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh, but he looked over at Mike and said, "Good plan. Also, I want that on a shirt."


	3. Chapter 3

_I made an oopsie! I accidentally posted chapter 4 as chapter 3, which probably confused anyone who read it before... Tuesday, September 21, at 3 pm. So apologies all around for the mix up, and enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

They played _rock, paper, scissors_ to see who would be the one to actually call Rachel.

Kurt swore that Mike had cheated. Mike swore that there was no way to cheat at that game and that Kurt should just grow a pair already.

"Says the man who doesn't have to call up Rachel Berry and concede that she is superior in all things musical theatre and then ask her to tell me all about her star turn off-Broadway as a lesbian. Thanks."

But he was perfectly nice over the phone, thank you very much.

"Hi, Rachel," he wanted to keep this as short a conversation as possible, so he didn't even attempt to make customary small talk. "Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need help."

"What's wrong?" Rachel's voice lowered. She was obviously not by herself and she didn't want to be overheard.

"Well, Mike and I have just been cast as romantic leads in the musical _bare_."

He had barely said the name of the show when Rachel exploded.

"Oh my goodness, the two of you got the roles? That's so exciting! I am so incredibly happy for you two! You are going to have so much fun playing those roles; there are endless opportunities you can explore as far as characterization goes. And now that I'm thinking about it, you two are perfect! You are going to be such an adorable Peter, and with Mike as your Jason? Try to get your director to give him a shirtless scene. Apart from the almost-sex scene, I mean. Then the audience will really understand why Peter can't keep his hands to himself."

Kurt's eyes were so wide he thought that his eyeballs might fall out. Did Rachel ever listen to herself talk?

"Um, thanks?" Kurt glared at Mike, who was laughing. "Anyway, I had a question I wanted to ask you."

"Of course!" Rachel gave a small giggle. "Sorry, I don't mean to rattle on like that. Go right ahead; ask away."

"Well, um, Mike and I are pretty good friends, and both of us are a little worried that playing romantic leads might screw things up. Then Mike remembered how you were in a show a while back where you played a lesbian, so we figured that we should call you and ask how you and the woman you played opposite kept things from getting uncomfortable."

"Oh, definitely, of course I'll help." Kurt could picture Rachel nodding as she spoke. "Janet and I became very close friends, and it was actually because of the fact that we spent so much of our rehearsals going over our more intimate scenes. I think you two will be surprised to find that it gets much easier the more you practice. You have to be completely open and honest with the other person too; don't be afraid to speak up if something feels off. Most on-stage couples form incredible off-stage friendships."

"So, basically, treat it like we would any other role and eventually it'll feel normal?"

"You got it!" Rachel sounded excited. "Just practice your kissing scenes until you're bored with it. Then it'll be so normal that you'll forget to feel awkward about it." Then Rachel went off on a tangent, saying, "And you have to let me know when your opening night is! Gavin and I are both getting ready to do a touring show, and we don't head out for another month or so."

After promising that he would keep her posted, Kurt said goodbye.

"So?" Mike prompted.

"Basically, we're supposed to make out with each other nonstop until the show starts."

"Sounds like fun." Mike shrugged. "Let's get on with it, then." He puckered his lips out so far that it looked painful and tried to lean in closer. Kurt pushed his face away.

"You're hilarious," Kurt said sarcastically.

"Well, we should probably take Rachel's advice," Mike pointed out. "She knows what she's talking about, and for all we know, it could work."

"Or one of us might be such a great kisser that the other will get a painfully awkward boner," Kurt crossed his arms huffily. "And I am not turning into Finn and doing the awkward I-just-jizzed-in-my-pants-but-I-don't-want-you-to-know dance."

"You're so pessimistic," Mike moved closer and Kurt tensed up, but all he did was sit back down so that they were side by side. "Look, I'm really excited about this show and I want it to work out for both of us. But it's not going to work if you refuse to at least try to get these scenes right. Just because you're terrified of your own hormones doesn't mean I'm going to let you give up."

"I hate it when you make a rational argument," Kurt kept his arms crossed.

"And I hate it when you get into ice queen mode," Mike shot back.

"I hate it when you call me out on my insecurities."

"And I hate it when you act like you're the only person whose insecurities matter."

That shut Kurt up. Mike had said it in a nice enough tone, but it was obvious that he was upset. And while Kurt wanted to stay pessimistic and stubborn, he knew that Mike was right. He was being a complete ass about this.

It was like they were back in high school again, where Mike was just there to sway in the background and help choreograph. His opinion didn't matter, because he didn't know much about singing and he wasn't a lead. It was in that moment that Kurt realized that Mike still felt inadequate and unimportant and was still worried that others saw him as that guy in the background who never talked. And here he, Kurt, was, being a complete asshole.

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

"I know," was Mike's answer.

* * *

For the next three weeks, they were, quite literally, attached at the hip. And, occasionally, the mouth.

They did everything together, only saying goodbye once it was time to go home for the night. Courtney gave them the same advice as Rachel, having them practice their three kissing scenes so often that both of their lips were swollen by the time she called it quits.

"I hate you so much," Kurt grumbled, holding an ice pack to his mouth and glaring over at Mike.

"I hate your mouth," Mike said, pressing gentle fingers to his own lips and wincing. "And this is so not fair; you don't have to practice an almost-sex-scene too. I think my lips are going to start throbbing if I have to do this again."

On days like this, they made sure to avoid the Starbucks where Kurt worked. The teasing would have been merciless. Instead, they would go to the one across the street and press the cold drinks against their mouths, waiting for the swelling to go down.

"Rachel forgot to mention this bit," Kurt said bitterly, poking at his lips and cheering up when he realized the puffiness was starting to go away.

"She tends to do that a lot," Mike reminded him. "She likes to make it all seem effortless and glamorous. You should know that by now."

"I do. Just let me be miserable for a minute. It hurts."

"You think this hurts?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "I'm still doing _West Side Story_ on top of all this. Try doing that show with a swollen mouth and a gossip-happy cast. They're taking bets on what I've really been up to. Nobody believes that this all came from rehearsals."

"Aw, are they making fun of you?" Kurt pouted, looking so silly with his larger-than-usual lips that Mike started laughing. "Shut up!" Kurt slapped his arm. "But really, just tell them one of your fabricated backstories to get them to shut up. You're good at that."

"Is that permission to tell them that we had a mishap in makeup, got superglue instead of lip balm, and wound up in the emergency room?"

"If that makes you feel better, sure," Kurt smiled.

"Awesome," Mike smiled back. "I've always wanted to tell someone that story. I've just never actually been in a show where I have to kiss someone."

"You've been waiting for this moment your entire life, haven't you?" Kurt teased.

"So what if I have?" Mike asked defensively. "Well, go on then, what have you been waiting your entire life for?"

"Are we being serious now?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sometimes I can never tell with you."

"Yeah, dead serious," Mike nodded. "What have you been waiting your entire life for?"

They both fell silent for a few minutes. Kurt was thinking and Mike was waiting and Kurt had no idea what he was supposed to say. He could pull the predictable and downright cliché answer of: "Love, happiness, and designer clothing," but he didn't exactly feel that way anymore. He was happy right now, but he hadn't been waiting for the specific moment when someone says, "I'm happy now."

He wasn't even sure he could say anything career-related either. His life hadn't gone as he had planned, but he had learned so much from every experience that it didn't matter that this was his first big theatre job. It didn't matter that his fashion internship had ended and he hadn't gotten the letter of recommendation from his supervisor.

"I don't know," he said, feeling incredibly stupid as he did so.

"Why don't you know?" Mike pressed.

"Because…" Kurt paused for a few seconds, thinking, "because I'm not the same person I used to be, you know? But I think the only thing that has stayed constant in my life was coming to New York. That's what I waited for my entire time in Lima, and I'm happier now because I came here."

"So you're saying the most important moment of your life has already happened?" Mike kept going, pressing Kurt to elaborate.

"Well aren't we depressing today," Kurt rolled his eyes. "But yes, in a matter of speaking, it has. I mean, I came to New York for college. Then I started working here and I got involved in theatre, limited though that involvement was. Everything that has happened in my life since was all because I moved here. So I guess you could say that the moment I stepped off the plane was the most important moment of my entire life, however trivial it may have seemed at the time."

"That's a very mature way of handling things," Mike complimented.

"And now it's your turn," Kurt looked at him expectantly. "You can't have expected me to tell you all that and not make you spill your soul in return. Go on; what have you been waiting all your life for?"

Mike was silent for a while too. He looked down at his hands and tapped his fingertips together. Kurt couldn't tell if he was thinking or stalling, but he thought it might have been a combination of both.

"Contentment," was what he finally said, elaborating when Kurt raised an eyebrow in question. "Not happiness, because when you're happy you can turn into a greedy monster of a person who doesn't care about anyone else. But contentment means you're pleased with the way things are going, but you're not averse to a change. You're still accepting of new ideas and new opportunities."

"Have you achieved that yet?"

"I'd like to think so, yeah." Mike grinned. "I've got two jobs, amazing friends, and the cutest on-stage love interest in the world."

"You're making fun of my boyish good looks again, aren't you?"

"No, this time I actually mean it."

* * *

They wore matching T-shirts that said, "No UST allowed" after the first show.

The reactions the shirt got would make all the inevitable rumors about them worth it. Almost every single teenage girl in the vicinity started giggling and when Mike went to stash his sharpie back in his bag after signing all the programs, he pulled out at least six little pieces of paper, all with phone numbers written on them.

"How'd they do that?" he asked, spreading them out on the table between himself and Kurt.

"How am I supposed to know?" Kurt rolled his eyes, checking his own pockets and finding quite a few himself. "I guess they took our shirts literally. We didn't exactly take time to explain just what the 'U' stands for, you know."

"Whatever," Mike crammed all the phone numbers back in his bag, Kurt doing the same with his own. They made a beeline for the nearest Starbucks, even though their adrenaline rush meant they had no need for any form of caffeine.

"I think the first show went well," Kurt said conversationally as he held the door open for Mike.

"Definitely," Mike agreed, ducking inside and waiting for Kurt to follow. "Did you see those two boys in the front row start crying?"

"I'm pretty sure the entire front row cried at some point," Kurt remembered. "There was a kid with blue hair who looked like he was going to have a nervous breakdown at one point."

They stopped their conversation to order their drinks, then picked up right where they had left off.

"I think I remember him," Mike nodded. "He was at the stage door all by himself, right?"

"He was," Kurt thought back, trying to remember that particular kid. It had been a rush of Playbills and camera flashes and it was hard to keep everyone straight after a while, but he did remember that one kid. "He was so quiet and everyone else kept pushing him out of the way."

"Yeah, that woman with the umbrella nearly impaled him," Mike gave a small laugh. "Poor kid. I wonder why he was by himself." Kurt was wondering the same thing.

"Do you think he's one of the numbers we found in our pockets?" he asked, knowing that the quiet, timid boy probably wouldn't have even considered doing such a thing.

"Probably not," Mike shrugged, stepping closer to the counter to pick up his drink. "It's kind of a shame, though, because I'm pretty sure he's going to be someone we'll remember."

"Maybe he'll come back again," Kurt said hopefully.

"We'll have to keep an eye out," Mike decided. Kurt stepped up to the counter to take his drink, then they both headed out of the shop.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Kurt asked suddenly, right as the door closed behind them.

"What?"

"Thinking about the fans afterwards," Kurt elaborated. "Are we supposed to keep thinking about them? I mean, are we supposed to pick certain ones out from the crowd and wonder what brought them to the show and why they were alone?"

"I think it happens whether you want it to or not," Mike said thoughtfully. "I mean, in _West Side Story_ I don't really notice the fans as much, but that's because most of them don't know who I am. There are these two kids, though, that seem to always be there, especially when there's a particularly understudy-heavy show. But if they weren't always there, I probably wouldn't have noticed them at all."

"_bare_ isn't really the same as _West Side Story_, either," Kurt pointed out. "This show hits a lot closer to home for some people."

"That too," Mike agreed. "I think we're going to notice people crying and being affected by the story because we are both affected by the story as well. I mean, you were McKinley's version of Peter, so it makes sense that you'll be observant and take extra notice of the fans that remind you of him."

"And how are you affected by the story?" Kurt asked. He had never before heard Mike admit that the story had some effect on him.

"You were Peter in high school and I was Jason," Mike shrugged a shoulder. "Minus the dating each other part, obviously. I mean, I was in denial about myself and didn't want to be open about it, just like Jason."

"What part of the show is hardest for you?" Kurt asked, his voice quiet. He knew what his answer would be: the part after Peter and Jason had their falling out, when Jason is outed and angry, meaning that Mike had to blow up in Kurt's face.

"The end confession scene," Mike said quickly. "I'm up there spilling my soul and crying and pleading with Eric to help me. It's terrifying."

Kurt reached out to hold Mike's hand. It was almost a reflex at this point, seeing how often Courtney had made them hold onto each other in rehearsals. Kurt took a moment to marvel over how familiar Mike's hand felt, then he squeezed it and gave the other man a small smile.

"You're very good," was all he said. It wasn't a compliment directed towards Mike's acting skills, because Kurt knew that for a scene like that, the actor had to find something deep inside himself and use it to make it work. He knew that when he was onstage as Peter, sometimes he would simply revert back to his old self, the Kurt that had been a freshman in high school, scared and alone. Mike had to be doing the same as Jason.

"So are you." Mike squeezed his hand too.

* * *

Courtney dropped a bomb on them when they came in the next day.

"We've decided to extend the show for another week," she said, grinning a very Rachel Berry-esque grin. "I've already talked to the rest of the cast, and they're all for it. Can you two get another week off? If I need to replace either one of you I'd prefer to get the new person hired today so we can start rehearsals up again tomorrow."

Kurt and Mike exchanged a glance, eyes wide and both at a loss for words.

It took a few seconds, but then Kurt said, "Yeah, hang on; let me call in."

"Me too," Mike grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him back outside the theatre, both tugging their phones out of their pockets.

"Hey, Allie." Kurt's boss picked up after the third ring. "I hate to spring this on you at such short notice, but is there any way I could take off next week as well? I've just been told that they're extending the show's run for another week."

"Kurt!" Allie sounded excited, which was obviously good. "This is so exciting! Of course you can have next week off as well. Hon, believe me, I know what it's like to get your first big break. Once you're all famous and don't need this job anymore, remember us little people, okay?"

Kurt laughed, thanked Allie at least six times, then hung up.

Mike was still on the phone, and from the looks of his face, his conversation wasn't going anything at all like Kurt's had.

"No, I know I can't expect you to keep my role open if I'm not going to be dedicated," Mike was saying, "but this is a huge opportunity, and it's only for another week."

Kurt slipped back inside to give Mike his privacy. Courtney was waiting for them, an excited expression on her face. "Well?"

"I've got another week," Kurt told her, the smile not reaching his eyes.

"But?" Courtney prompted.

"But it doesn't look like Mike's going to get the same," Kurt told her. He was surprised when she waved her hands and said, "Oh, I know."

"Come again?"

"I know," Courtney repeated. "I had to twist some arms just to get him a week. Those _West Side Story_ people can be real dickheads when it comes to their cast taking time off. Especially since this technically isn't a vacation; it's him leaving to do another show."

"Oh."

Mike popped his head back inside, asking in a frantic whisper, "Tell me, quick, what to do. Leave _West Side Story_ for another week here or go back to _West Side Story_ and not do the second week?"

Kurt and Courtney exchanged a look, then Courtney stepped forward, saying, "Mike, go back to your other show. If you break a contract, that'll stick with you forever. And believe you me, people in the theatre business are a bunch of snotty uptight bastards when it comes to breaking contracts."

The door shut behind Mike, but not before he said, "Fine, I won't do the second week."

Knowing that he would be doing the show opposite someone completely new hurt more than Kurt thought it would. And he was overwhelmed with a feeling of just how unfair this really was. Mike had been the one to drag him to the audition, and now Mike was leaving and he was staying. That just didn't seem right.

Courtney obviously could tell what was going on in Kurt's head, because she said quickly, "You're going to be a part of the casting process, you know. I'd rather find someone you work well with who might not be the strongest actor or singer. In my opinion, the chemistry between the two leads is the most important part."

Mike came back inside, already ranting under his breath.

"You'd think they could do without me for two weeks, but no. They don't care that this is the only show I've had a lead in and that another week could do amazing things for my career. They just want me to come back so they won't have to shuffle around understudies or put Brian in for Bernardo next weekend."

"Mike," Courtney interrupted. "I have a question for you both. Now Kurt, you have five days to form the same chemistry you have with Mike with someone else. Do either of you have any suggestions as to who we should get?"

"Jesse St. James," Mike suggested, without missing a beat.

"I'm sorry, who?" Kurt turned towards him, gaping.

"Jesse St. James," Mike repeated, completely nonplussed. "The three of us were in the same high school glee club for a few months, and then I was his understudy in a show a while back. He's kind of awesome when he's not being a perfectionist. He's just like me, except with a bigger ego and not as pretty a face."

"Speak for yourself," Kurt scoffed. "Jesse's the pretty boy if we're comparing. You're more of the tall, dark, and handsome type."

"Great, so I'm a stereotypical bad boy and Jesse gets the girl in the end. Thanks, Kurt."

"Not necessarily," Kurt smirked. "I never said there was a girl involved at all, and you know boys are much more likely to make a bad decision and dump the pretty boy."

"Oh my God," Courtney interrupted, staring at them both. "How the Hell are you two not married?"


	4. Chapter 4

Mike was completely right about Jesse, except for one small detail: Jesse had better hair.

And when he was acting opposite Jesse during rehearsals, Kurt couldn't keep his hands off it. It was just so soft and well kept and wavy and gorgeous and made him want to put Jesse in a headlock and pet him like a puppy.

When he told Mike about this, Mike had burst out laughing and suggested he try it. Kurt said that was a horrible idea and that he would never, ever so much as think of doing that.

Then, after his last show, Mike had promptly put Jesse in a headlock and did just that.

"Oh my God, Jesse, your hair is amazing," Mike said, smirking over at Kurt, who was watching and hoping his cheeks didn't look as red as they felt. "It's so soft! What the Hell do you do to it?"

"Lady conditioner," Jesse grinned, saying this with absolutely no shame. "Works wonders."

Mike let him go, settling his arm around Jesse's shoulders instead. Jesse had been hanging around backstage for their shows once he had taken then job, getting a feel for how things were done and when his cues were. Tonight Jesse had gone out onstage after the curtain call and Mike had introduced him as the new Jason. That got quite a bit of applause; Jesse was already an award-winning performer, so his name was familiar among theatre regulars.

"You gonna miss me?" Mike asked, slinging his other arm around Kurt's shoulders, dragging both of them back towards their dressing rooms.

"Nope," Kurt lied. "Why would I miss you when I get to be all over the talented and famous Jesse St. James?"

"Ouch," Mike pouted, but his eyes were laughing.

"Oh shut up," Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're not seriously going to make me admit that I will miss you, are you? You gonna put me in a headlock until I proclaim my undying love and my unwillingness to act opposite anyone else ever again?"

Mike's arm tightened threateningly around his shoulders. Kurt reacted on instinct, ducking out from under that arm and pressing himself back against the wall of the narrow hallway.

"Come on," Mike reached for him, their fingers linking automatically. "I wasn't really gonna put you in a headlock. Although I might make you publicly proclaim your undying love if that's still an option."

"You first," Kurt ordered.

"This isn't in public," Mike protested.

"Yes it is; Jesse's here as our witness," Kurt made eye contact with the other man for a second, noticing that he seemed to be finding their banter extremely hilarious. "What?" Kurt asked Jesse. "You think we're kidding?"

"That's exactly the problem," Jesse said through a laugh. "Nobody can tell when you two are being serious or not. You should hear some of the rumors going around."

"What, you mean like the ones that say we're banging each other every night after the show's over?" Mike asked nonchalantly, making Kurt giggle like a thirteen-year-old girl.

"I was talking more about the ones where nobody's sure if you really aren't half-brother and Kurt's not really a transgendered girl and that you're committing some sort of incestuous crime by banging each other," Jesse also said this nonchalantly, like he was commenting on the weather or the lack of posters in the hallway.

Kurt tripped over his own feet.

"Mike!" he groaned, glaring at the other two. "What the fuck have you been telling people?"

Mike just shrugged, grinned, and said, "Not my fault nobody can take a joke these days. But we'd better get out there and sign stuff soon or they'll start wondering if all three of us are going at it up here."

Kurt promptly turned to face the wall and banged his forehead against it.

* * *

"Kurt Hummel!"

"Mercedes Jones!"

"Boy, you have some explaining to do."

"What?" Kurt frowned at his laptop, taken aback by Mercedes' comment. He raised an eyebrow at her, trying his best not to look nervous. Even though there were miles between them and this was just their weekly Skype date, she still scared him when she started a conversation like that.

"Mike. Details. Now."

"But… there's nothing to tell," Kurt protested. "I mean, yeah, he's got an amazing body and he's a pretty good kisser, but we're just onstage love interests. Not in real life. You know that."

"The internet doesn't," Mercedes couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. "Jamie," Mercedes' old college roommate, "introduced me to Broadway Secrets a few days ago when she realized that I knew you. Hang on; I'm sending you a link."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this site?" Kurt groaned, but clicked on the link dutifully anyway. He was suddenly accosted with a candid photo of him and Mike holding hands with a caption that said, '_Either this is the most epic bromance ever or they're totally fucking.'_

"Oh. That's just _lovely_, Mercedes."

"There are six more just like it," she informed him. "So you see why I feel the need to make sure you're really telling me everything."

Kurt scrolled through the page quickly, nose wrinkling in displeasure as he did so. It seemed like every "secret" was criticizing something, be it a certain performer, show, costume, what have you. And Mercedes was right; there were more pictures of him and Mike. Kurt felt his cheeks heat up when he saw one that showed Mike bending down with his mouth right next to Kurt's ear. Kurt knew that Mike had whispered an extremely inappropriate joke, but someone who didn't know that could interpret that picture any way they wanted.

"Wow."

"You two are basically Broadway's new power couple, apparently," Mercedes told him. "Except you're swearing that you two aren't really a couple."

"We're not!" Kurt insisted. "Mercedes, come on, you'd be the first person I would tell. I wouldn't let you find out over the internet on some gossip site. You know that."

"I'd come up there and slap you silly if that ever happened," Mercedes said shortly.

"I'd expect nothing less," Kurt said honestly. "Now, come on, tell me about your life."

"Nah, you're not getting away that easily," Mercedes smirked. "Come on, tell me all about Jesse being your new love interest."

"Onstage love interest," Kurt reminded her, before launching into a rant about how it was so unfair that Jesse had to be straight, because seriously, no straight man actually admits to using girls' hair conditioner and makes out with another guy and decides to slip a tongue in just for the fun of it.

"You're so far in denial that I'm pretty sure you've put a down payment on a condo," Mercedes said when his rant about Jesse was over.

"Excuse me?"

"Kurt, hon, just stop," Mercedes actually held up a hand. "Stop talking and listen for a minute. Or two. Can you do that, please?"

Kurt nodded, settling back into his chair to emphasize this.

"Good," Mercedes did the same and Kurt could hear her beanbag chair rustling. "Okay, here's how I see it. You're a single gay man who's the romantic lead in a musical about two gay kids. It's been way too long since you've had any sort of real love interest, so you've fallen into a funk where you're convinced that no guys like you and that it's better to be friends."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Mercedes talked louder.

"I get that you and Mike are good friends and that you and Jesse are probably good friends too, but you need to open those eyes of yours and see the obvious. To the rest of the world, you and Mike are the epitome of an old married couple, minus the sex. And I hate to admit it, hon, but I think the rest of the world knows best here."

"Excuse me?" Kurt repeated, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Are you sexually attracted to Mike?" Mercedes asked bluntly, pretending not to notice when Kurt squirmed in his seat.

"No," he said automatically.

"No, think about it," Mercedes ordered, "and try again."

"I don't know," Kurt admitted, looking at his lap rather than the computer screen. "I mean, I'm not denying that he's certainly nice to look at and I have thought about him and me… like that… before. But that was way before, like, millennia before we even started forming a friendship."

"Just admit you totally want to lick ice cream off his abs and be done with it!"

"Quinn!" Mercedes and Kurt both shouted the blonde woman's name at the same time. Kurt shot up from his chair, blushing furiously, while Mercedes turned and looked behind her, asking, "When did you get in?"

"A few minutes ago," Quinn came closer to the screen, smirking in a way she had perfected back in high school. "Hi, Kurt!" She plopped down in the beanbag chair next to Mercedes. "Continue with your discussion about how Kurt and Mike are made for each other and just won't admit it."

Kurt glared at both of them, ignoring the fact that his face felt extremely hot and his hands were suddenly sweaty and cold.

"Keep going," Mercedes prompted. "You were getting somewhere."

"I'm taking a detour," Kurt decided firmly.

"No, you're not," Quinn butted in.

"Why not?" Kurt asked them both angrily. "Why do I have to talk about this at all? I'm perfectly happy having Mike as just my friend."

"No you're not," Mercedes echoed Quinn's sentence.

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

"Maybe a little," Mercedes shrugged a shoulder. "Come on, go back to what you were saying before."

"Fine," Kurt looked at his lap, frowning at it. "I already admitted that I've thought about it, but like I said, that was before I got to know him. Now we're really close and he's one of my best friends. I'm not about to fuck that up for anything."

"But you're admitting you've thought about it since then?"

"No, I'm admitting that he's extremely attractive and I'm gay."

"You're so stubborn," Quinn shook her head.

"Do you two want me to tell you that I'm secretly in love with Mike and that I've been having sex dreams about him for months? Is that it?"

"It's a start."

"It's also a lie."

"Just keep telling yourself that."

* * *

"I hate Mercedes and Quinn," Kurt vented, curled up next to Mike on the sofa they had found in the theatre. Mike made an 'aw' noise, clucking his tongue and putting an arm around Kurt.

"Poor you," he said patronizingly. "What did they do to you?"

"They made me talk in circles," Kurt pouted, snuggling into Mike's side. "They're both convinced that we're secretly in love with each other and are afraid to admit it."

"So is the rest of the world," Mike reminded him.

"But this is Mercedes and Quinn saying it," Kurt argued. "They actually know us, unlike the rest of the world. And oh my God, it got so frustrating talking with them about us for so long."

"Well thanks, I didn't realize just how boring a topic I was."

"You know what I mean," Kurt slapped Mike on the stomach, feeling his cheeks tinge when he remembered what Quinn had said about Mike's abs. "I told them about our rule and everything, but they still don't believe me."

"No unspoken sexual tension," Mike recited.

"Speaking of which," Jesse came into the room, already wearing his costume for the show, "I have to talk with you about something, Kurt."

Both Mike and Kurt started struggling to stand up, but Jesse waved his hands and told them to stay put.

"You two are sickeningly adorable, by the way," he added, before telling him what he had actually come in to say. "It's about my girlfriend."

"She hates that you have to be up onstage in front of hundreds of people making out with me and wants us to tone it down?" Kurt guessed.

"No," Jesse rolled his eyes. "She actually thinks it's one of the hottest things she's ever seen in her life." Kurt raised an eyebrow, confused. "Yeah, I don't really get it either, but whatever. She's a girl. They work differently. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about that. So if some crazy redhead comes up to you at any point telling you just how amazing you are and tries to feel you up, that's just Mandy being a complete moron."

Kurt and Mike exchanged an amused look.

"And you're dating her why?" Mike was brave enough to ask.

"Because under all the crazy is the perfect woman," Jesse declared.

"Fair enough," Kurt nodded.

"Does that make you the perfect man?" Mike asked cheekily.

"Nope, that makes you the perfect man," Jesse corrected, plopping himself down on the sofa with them, but keeping his distance. "You're talented and handsome and have abs and an ass that could make any straight guy question his sexuality."

"See what I mean?" Kurt almost whined. "It's so not fair that he's straight!"

"And here I thought you were making the flirts-with-everything-that-moves side of Jesse up," Mike commented. "Yeah, he needs to stop that before one of us has an accident."

"Come on, everyone knows that you two are basically dating anyway," Jesse poked Kurt in the shoulder. "So that means I'm allowed to flirt with you. So tell me, for our big kiss tonight: tongue or no tongue?"

"I hate you," Kurt glared at him. He was doing quite a bit of glaring lately.

"Does that mean I don't get to be the best man at your wedding?" Jesse pouted.

"I'm about to go all musical theatre nerd on you two," Mike announced, then said, "I think I finally know how Bobby from _Company_ feels. All his friends are bugging him about not being married, just like everyone's doing to us. But in the end Bobby has to realize what's really important and who he really loves and figure out if he loves himself enough to be single."

"Whereas the other half of the audience just assumed he was gay."

"Shut up, Jesse," Kurt slapped the man on Mike's behalf. "That was very insightful, Mike."

"'Marry me,'" Mike quoted, looking directly at Kurt. "'Marry me, and everyone will leave us alone.'"

"_Marry me a little, love me just enough,_" Kurt sang quietly, smiling as he did so. "_Cry but not too often, play but not too rough. Keep a tender distance so we'll both be free. That's the way it ought to be._"

Jesse suddenly burst out laughing, which made both Kurt and Mike turn towards him and exclaim in a clearly pissed-off tone, "Jesse! Shut up!"

"I'm sorry!" No he wasn't. "But it's just that one line: 'Keep a tender distance so we'll both be free.' You two crazies are attached at the hip and never seem to do anything apart. That's anything but a tender distance, boys."

"Well, Sondheim didn't write a song for best friends asking the other to marry him because they were bored and humoring their friends," Kurt shot back.

"_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend_," Mike started singing, stopping after just that phrase when Kurt turned a glare on him. "What?"

"No," Kurt shook his head and his voice was firm. "We are not going to sing a gay duet of that song. You saw what happened to the last couple who tried that."

"So are we a couple now?" Mike asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"No, I just meant that there is no way we are singing that song," Kurt explained. "We're still just friends."

"You guys keep saying that," Jesse shook his head, "and yet here you two are, snuggled up on the couch like two lovebirds in the honeymoon phase, spending every waking moment together and holding hands wherever you go. I hate to break it to you boys, but that's pretty couple-y if you ask me." He stood up and started backing to the door. "If you two aren't officially together by the time the curtain goes up, I'm gagging Kurt with my tongue later."

He saluted and gave them a cheerful grin as he left.

"Dick."

* * *

They weren't sure whose idea it was to tell Puck about all this, but they both agreed that they hated whoever that had been.

Puck had called each of them individually, clearly feigning interest and reading from a script. Kurt and Mike were almost positive that the only words that had been his own were the following: "So, basically, you two are already dating minus the fucking part. Cool, got it."

And Kurt was not about to tell Mike that Puck had all but shouted, "Get some, Hummel!" before hanging up.

"Do you think we need boyfriends?" Kurt asked, looking across the table at Mike.

"What, you mean convenience boyfriends or real boyfriends?" Mike asked, pulling their shared drink closer and taking a sip. It was getting too cold for frappuccinos, so they'd started trying out every hot beverage Starbucks offered, in order to figure out their favorite.

"Real boyfriends," Kurt nodded. "I don't want to string anyone along just for the sake of having someone to string along."

"I think the world is scared of being alone," was what Mike said by way of answer. "I mean, look at how often society sits on its ass and watches some reality dating show. To me, that's the epitome of being desperate. Everyone is so afraid of being alone that they're willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that they end up with someone. Even if it's the wrong someone."

"Is that your way of saying no?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"No, that's just my way of musing over society's warped view of relationships," Mike corrected. "I'm not gonna lie to you; sometimes I miss being with someone. But it's the idea that I miss more than any one person, so it's not like I could call up one of my exes and try to get back together, you know?"

"I think that's how I feel too," Kurt said thoughtfully. "I haven't been attracted to someone like that since…" He paused, thinking back and realizing with a shock that the last time he had been attracted to someone, that someone had been Mike. It had been back when Mike had had his apartment warming party, before Kurt had known that they would end up being the best of friends.

"Since that issue with the sixteen year old at Starbucks," he lied, breaking their one rule for the first time.

"You're a liar," Mike accused, spinning their drink between his hands. "I can tell when you're lying and that was definitely a lie. What's the real truth?" He picked up the drink and held it menacingly. "I'll tip this over your head if you don't tell me."

"All right," Kurt grumbled, looking at the table. "Before we got to know each other, back when you had your party, it was you. Happy now?"

"Yes," Mike set the drink back down. He seemed to be okay with this new piece of information. "And now?"

"Now?" Kurt frowned, then realized what Mike was asking. "Oh! No, no, not anymore. I mean, you're lovely to look at and we have pretty much the best relationship ever, but…" he shook his head, "no."

"What, so you're saying I got really, really ugly overnight?" Mike teased.

"No, I'm saying I grew to care for you as a friend." Kurt pulled the drink closer to him and took a sip, mainly to hide his red cheks.

"Fair enough," Mike shrugged one shoulder. "Then I should probably tell you that I almost asked you to our senior prom back in high school."

Kurt choked.

"Yeah, I know," Mike laughed. "But neither of us had dates and the school year was basically over anyway, so it didn't matter what people thought at that point."

"Any other high school secrets I should know about?" Kurt asked, coughing. "Or are we done with the confessions today?"

"I didn't date Tina to hide my sexuality," Mike told him. "I really did like her, and I do still consider myself bi. So no running to her and telling her I was using her, because I wasn't."

"Never even crossed my mind," Kurt said honestly.

"All right, then," Mike smiled, clapping his hands together. "We're all set then, right? Cards out on the table and no current UST, so we're all set to go out and hopefully figure out how we're supposed to meet boys. Right?"

"Right," Kurt echoed. "But if you expect me to be your wingman, you're sorely mistaken."

"And if you expect me to not yell, 'Get some, Hummel!' if I see you flirting, you're sorely mistaken."

"Oh my God, you're just like Puck!"

"I know; he told me to say that."


	5. Chapter 5

It took making out with Jesse eight times a week for Kurt to realize what his problem was.

(Well, after he stopped being enamored with Jesse's hair.)

He kept tilting his face up too much. He kept holding onto Jesse's shirt and trying to get a feel for abs that weren't there. He kept letting Jesse lead the dancing scene, forgetting that Jesse didn't know it as well and that he was supposed to lead.

The worst mishap happened during the usually ad-libbed teasing scene that he and Mike were so good at. He had actually called Jesse "Gaysian," which made the audience laugh uncomfortably and halted the entire scene for two whole seconds. Luckily, Jesse recovered quickly and slipped in a line about how "Peter" loved to tease him about how he was 1% Korean.

And then Courtney really called him out on it.

"Get yourself together already," she told him angrily, after one particularly bad performance, where he and Jesse had missed each other's mouths all three times they were supposed to kiss. "If you miss him that much, go over to his show with flowers and a ring."

Kurt scowled, but he did just that, minus the flowers and ring.

"I miss you," he blurted out, as soon as Mike reached the end of the line of fans.

"I saw you four hours ago," Mike reminded him, obviously amused.

"No, I miss having you as my Jason," Kurt clarified, looping his arm through Mike's as they started walking towards the subway. "I keep screwing up my and Jesse's scenes. I called him 'Gasian' today."

Mike started laughing, so Kurt slapped him with his free hand.

"Shut up! It's not funny!"

"Yes it is," Mike insisted. "And you'll never guess what I did today during the dance at the gym."

"What did you do?" Kurt's eyes widened. He hadn't thought it would be possible for playing Jason in _bare_ to mess anything up in _West Side Story_.

"I went for Joey instead of Katie," Mike admitted. "He's the cute one with hair like you, in case you forgot."

"So, what, you tried to dance with him?"

"Yeah, during the super intimate Tony/Maria part. You know, the part where there are only two other couples there?"

"How did you even manage that?"

"I honestly don't know."

They fell into silence, Kurt pondering this new information. They were just used to working opposite each other; that was all. That didn't mean anything, right? Because they had just had that conversation and he wasn't about to go screw things up by trying to have it again.

But maybe there was something hidden in their mistakes. Now that they were both occupied with different shows, they weren't spending every second of the day together. That was probably it; they were so used to each other's company that it was almost nerve-wracking to be apart. It was the same as having a security blanket when you were little.

"Will you move in with me?" Kurt asked, the same time Mike said, "Let's open a coffee shop."

They laughed, just like little kids do when they say something at the same time, then tried again. Kurt motioned for Mike to go first.

"Let's open a coffee shop," Mike repeated.

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. They were both performers, and while they pay was nice, it wasn't going to be enough to actually open their own store.

"We just do it," Mike insisted. "Like Nike says. Just do it."

"We're poor," Kurt reminded him. "Okay, well, not poor, but I'm back at Starbucks at the end of the week and, no offense, but your paycheck probably isn't exactly humungous, seeing how you're in the ensemble."

"I know," Mike's eyes were gleaming, a sure sign that he was already completely sold on the idea and he wasn't about to give it up without a fight. "But if we took out a loan and found a place that needed fixing up, it'd be easy. You know the tricks of the coffee trade, so that part's down. And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get my contract extended at the next casting change, so I'll be able to help!"

"So you're saying it's a good thing you're losing your job?" Kurt didn't understand the logic. "What happened to the excitement of being on Broadway?"

"They don't like me anymore," Mike shrugged a shoulder. "Come on, we could make the cutest little place! We could hang up posters from the shows we've been in and the shows our friends are in. We can play any kind of music we want, too!"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to run your own business?" Kurt, who had worked for an entrepreneur – Burt Hummel – for years, knew just how tricky this could get. "There is so much paperwork involved, then on top of that you have to deal with shipments of supplies and electricity and water bills, not to mention the taxes and employee benefits we'd be required by law to give. And then hiring employees! How would we even start?"

"You said it yourself: We should make our own Broadway," Mike reminded him. "All out-of-work actors, just like Ellen's Stardust Diner, except a café." He inhaled sharply, then clutched Kurt's arm, exclaiming, "No! We could make it like Joe's Pub! A cabaret café! Wouldn't that be perfect?"

"So long as we can go make friends with some famous philanthropist and convince him that it'll be a worthwhile investment, then yes."

"You're so negative about this," Mike tutted.

"And you're being unrealistic," Kurt shot back. "It's hard work to get this sort of thing set up, and it's not like New York has a shortage of cafés and performance spaces. We'd really have to set ours apart from the others if we want it to go somewhere. If we can even find a storefront that's up for grabs that's not way overpriced."

"It'll be a bookstore too," Mike decided. "A cabaret café and bookstore. All your theatre needs in one place. We can sell sheet music and have a karaoke night and book amateur artists to play during the daytime. Oh, come on, even you have to admit that's a good idea."

"I'm not saying it's a bad idea," Kurt corrected him, "I'm just saying that it's going to be really tough to pull that off. We'll have so much paperwork to go through and we'll probably be living on Ramen noodles while we're waiting for the place to get in working order. This isn't something you do on a whim, Mike."

"I know that. That's why I want to do it with you. You're already thinking about this rationally, which is what I need." He turned puppy dog eyes on Kurt. "Please?"

"Puppy dog eyes don't work," Kurt lied, already feeling his resolve wavering.

"Yes they do."

"You're right; they totally do. We'll talk about this later, when we're both not exhausted. Okay?"

"Deal," Mike let it drop. "So what did you say?"

"I asked you to move in with me," Kurt felt his cheeks flush as he said it. Mike raised an eyebrow, which made Kurt say hastily, "No, not like that. I just meant as roommates. Or apartment-mates or whatever they're called nowadays. What do you think?"

"I think we're stupid for not doing that sooner."

* * *

Kurt was starting to re-evaluate their living arrangements when he walked in on Mike getting dressed for the sixth time.

It wasn't as if they hadn't seen each other in their underwear before, and it wasn't like they weren't used to seeing people in various stages of undress running around (hello, they were theatre people!) but Kurt had never actually taken a good, long look at a half-naked Mike before.

And he really, _really_ liked what he saw.

It should be illegal for any man to have abs like that, Kurt decided. Because he would just look at them and he'd immediately feel the need to go to the gym. Or the need to reach out and touch, which would certainly become an issue if he ever gave into that particular impulse.

So he followed their one rule and told Mike about it.

"Your abs are extremely distracting," he said one morning over breakfast, staring openly at the skin Mike was displaying by wearing an unzipped hoodie.

"Um, thank you?" Mike looked down, frowning. "I can zip up if you want."

"That is completely unnecessary," Kurt assured him. "I just wanted you to have a heads up that there is a very good possibility that I will embarrass myself and fanboy over them at some point."

"So what you're saying is…?" Mike prompted.

"Whenever you get a boyfriend, he'll probably want to lick stuff off them, never mind what kind of stuff that may be."

"And do you want to lick something off my abs?" Mike teased, scooting his chair closer to Kurt's, so the table was no longer between them. Kurt felt his face turn red, and was pleasantly surprised to see that Mike's cheeks had flushed pink as well.

"Do you want me to lick something off them?" Kurt shot back.

"No thanks," Mike said graciously, his tone nonchalant. "All we have at the table is milk and Lucky Charms, and I have a feeling that would get messy."

"You just don't want to risk getting marshmallows in your underwear," Kurt teased, cheeks positively burning.

"And you're doing a horrible job at being subtle about your secret desire to lick soggy cereal off my stomach," Mike countered.

"Because I didn't just warn you that I would fanboy over them at some point or anything." Kurt rolled his eyes, sighing heavily and wishing that, for once, Mike would make this easy.

"Okay then," Mike scooted his chair so it was right next to Kurt's. "Go ahead."

"Excuse me?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead," Mike repeated, stretching in his chair, making the hoodie fall away from his body. "They're right here. Up for grabs."

Kurt really didn't want to think about how that sentence could have been taken. You know, if he and Mike were anything more than good friends. Which they weren't.

So he ignored his burning cheeks and the churning feeling in his stomach and reached out, touching just two fingers to Mike's abs.

"Come on," Mike shifted in his seat, pushing against Kurt's hand. "I know you want to. It's like me with your hair."

"What?" Kurt withdrew his hand. "My hair?"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?" Mike grinned innocently. "Remember how obsessed with Jesse's hair you were? It's basically the same for me with yours."

Kurt took a moment to ponder this new development. Okay, so he was basically completely head-over-heels for Mike's abs – in a completely platonic way – and Mike felt the same about his hair? Kurt combed his fingers through it, trying to figure out why.

"It's like Jesse's, except nicer," Mike told him, seeing his confusion. "Jesse cheats and uses lady shampoo or whatever it was. You actually know how to take care of your hair for real."

"That makes no sense."

"Shut up and touch my abs so I can touch your hair." Mike took hold of Kurt's wrist, pulling his hand out of his hair and setting it down flat on his stomach. Kurt's fingers moved of their own accord, splaying out across the toned muscles to cover as much skin as possible.

"They're very nice," he said, his eyes trained on Mike's stomach and not daring to look anywhere else.

Mike bent at the middle, reaching forward and threading his fingers through Kurt's bangs. Kurt could feel the movement under his fingers, but kept his hand where it was. He started tracing Mike's muscles absently, trying not to get distracted by the hand that was now combing through his hair.

After a few seconds, Kurt asked, "So what does this mean, exactly?"

"Hmm?" Mike's voice was lazy and faraway, which caught Kurt off guard. He looked up at Mike's face, realizing the other man's eyes were half-closed and he had a contented smile on his face. Kurt pulled back abruptly, scooting his chair backwards with his momentum and watching Mike's hand drop back to his side.

"What are we doing?" Kurt tried again, watching as Mike blinked at him, surprised.

"What does what mean?" Mike sat up straighter, tugging his hoodie back where it belonged.

"We were just feeling each other up, Mike," Kurt put it bluntly. "What the Hell do you think I'm talking about?"

"So?" Mike shrugged a shoulder, crossing his arms. "What's wrong with that?"

"Quite a few things," Kurt mirrored him, crossing his own arms tightly across his chest. Even though he wasn't the one wearing an unzipped hoodie, he suddenly felt exposed.

"Come on, it's just like petting a puppy because its fur looked soft," Mike reasoned, which made Kurt let out a bark of laughter that was entirely unnecessary.

"So I'm a puppy now?" he asked, switching from annoyed to angry without missing a beat.

"No," Mike looked offended. "It's called an analogy. You're supposed to know these things."

"Excuse me for feeling guilty about feeling up my best friend," Kurt's arms tightened around him. "That's not what best friends are supposed to do."

"No, that's actually exactly what best friends are supposed to do," Mike sat up even straighter, suddenly looking very large and intimidating. "It's only a problem when there's something else going on. Care to share?"

"We've already had this conversation," Kurt said stubbornly, not willing to go down that road again.

"And it looks like we need to have it again," Mike argued. "Here, I'll go first this time." He cleared his throat and crossed his legs, setting his hands on his lap and, basically, trying to get Kurt to loosen up. "Hi, My name is Mike Chang and I may or may not be attracted to Kurt Hummel. I'd probably be able to figure it out if he actually lets me talk this out with him. Or if he lets me pet him like a little puppy." The frown came back. "Happy now?"

* * *

  
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," Kurt found himself spilling his soul to Jesse between their last matinee and evening show that Sunday. "He wasn't supposed to be the one who got hurt."

"So, what, you were supposed to be the one with the miserable life and the secret and almost embarrassingly huge crush on your best friend?" Jesse asked through a mouthful of his sandwich. "Because that's kind of a bunch of bullshit."

When Kurt just gaped at him, Jesse chewed and swallowed thickly, taking a quick sip of water before continuing.

"Here's how I see things," Jesse leaned forward, gesturing with his hands in a way that was so annoying that it was all Kurt could do not to punch him in the face. "You and Mike are both afraid of the same thing and you did everything you could to promise that you'd be open with each other to prevent that thing from happening. But then it happened anyway, and you were too scared to admit it. Following me?"

Kurt nodded obediently, though he still really felt like telling Jesse to shut up and let him be miserable.

"The problem is that you still see him as the dancing jock from high school who dated girls."

"I do not!" Kurt protested, but Jesse held up a hand and continued.

"No, hear me out," he insisted. "You grew up seeing Mike as someone that you can admire from far away, never someone you can actually be open with and someone that could return your feelings. He's known the truth about you probably since you met. Therefore, it's easier for you to forget that he's just as confused and scared and horny as you are, leading you to believe that you will be the one who develops feelings for him."

"I am not horny," Kurt glowered.

"Shut up and let Dr. Jesse make this better," Jesse's tone was patronizing now, "because it's obvious to everyone else in the world that you two are practically married. Why didn't you just tell him that you felt the same way? You would at least have gotten to have sex on your kitchen table."

Kurt counted to ten and willed himself to get_ that_ image out of his head.

"Because I spent too much time building this friendship to let it go," Kurt crossed his arms and slumped in his seat. "I'm not going to lose that because neither of us can keep it in our pants."

Jesse made an exasperated noise that could probably be heard all the way up in Washington Heights.

"Kurt Hummel, you are a fucking idiot," his tone was sharp and angry. "When are you going to get over yourself and those stupid platonic feelings and realize that you don't have to be afraid of commitment anymore? You're not in fucking Lima, Ohio anymore. It is possible for you to find someone to be happy with here, and you're ignoring the man who's been making you happy for way too long."

"Says the man who's still feuding with Rachel," Kurt said angrily, lashing out and playing the stupidest and more irrelevant card in the book.

"Rachel and I are professional adversaries," Jesse explained. "Her choice, not mine. It's not my fault the producers liked me more than her boyfriend."

"But it is your fault that you never apologized," Kurt's voice was bitter and hoarse and if he didn't stop soon, he wouldn't be able to calm down enough to go onstage for their final show.

"And it's your fault for not learning the whole story. I'll have you know that Rachel and I dated for three months after she came to New York. Then she dumped me when I went on tour, claiming that she doesn't do long-distance."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Well, that still doesn't give you the right to–"

"Yes, it does," Jesse said loudly. "I know you and I know Mike and I know for a fact that you are further in denial than I've ever seen before. What do you have to lose by trying and seeing where things go? Sure, you two might end up hating each other and break up and move to opposite ends of the country, but at the same time, you two might end up married with two kids and a dog."

"I hate dogs."

"What have they ever done to you?" Jesse asked, sounding much like a fourth grade teacher.

"They've taken part in one too many analogies for my taste," Kurt sniffed in distaste. "And I am not a puppy."

"Sad puppy," Jesse teased. "Got your tail between your legs?"

"If you don't stop that right now, I will lead you into the orchestra pit during the dance tonight."

"I'm done."

* * *

Mike was waiting for him backstage after the show ended. He was holding two potted poinsettias, but the smile on his face didn't quite meet his eyes.

"I wasn't about to not show up, not after everything I did to hide these from you," Mike told Kurt, holding one flower out to Jesse and all but shoving the other into Kurt's chest. "It was a really good show. Lots of extra emotion. I thought Kurt was going to start wailing at one point."

"Low blow," Jesse gave Mike a pat on the shoulder. "I had a talk with him. Cut the poor puppy some slack; he's just an idiot."

Kurt scowled at the pair of them. Jesse just grinned like an idiot and all but skipped off to his dressing room.

"It was a really good show," Mike admitted once Jesse had disappeared up the stairs. "You two have great onstage chemistry." He was staring at the base of the stairs where Jesse had been only seconds before. "Not too shabby for having less than a week of rehearsals."

"Thanks," Kurt followed Mike's gaze, not wanting to look at him. "Um, is this the part where I apologize and you tell me all the things I did wrong and every reason why you should drop me as both a friend and a roommate, but then I make some big speech about how I'll change and then we're supposed to run off into the sunset and get married in some pretty little church with lots of flowers and sunshine?"

"I think it is," Mike agreed, "but I don't like long speeches and we both know you'll never change and that I'm too much of a sissy to call you out like that."

"Funny, you just did."

"So I did. Huh. Go figure."

There were a few seconds' silence.

"I really am sorry, though," Kurt started playing with the foil that covered the poinsettia's pot. "And Jesse did have a talk with me, if you can call it that. He basically told me how stupid I was and that I needed to re-evaluate our relationship. Again."

"And what'd you come up with?" Mike asked, turning fiery eyes onto Kurt, making him jump.

"He wants to fuck you in his dressing room!"

"Jesse!" Both Mike and Kurt hollered the man's name up the stairs.

"You know it's true," was the answer, then, "All right, I'm leaving now. Feel free to start the make out session."

"They do know that makes things worse, don't they?" Kurt shook his head. "Honestly, Jesse and Quinn must be taking advice from each other or something."

"And what'd you come up with?" Mike repeated, clearly not distracted.

"I care about you too much to risk losing you," Kurt admitted, feeling so much like a girl in a chick flick that he was close to barfing. "I thought I wouldn't lose you if I just pretended there was nothing there, but instead I pretty much drove you out the door doing just that."

"Yeah, that was pretty stupid," Mike gave a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Do we get to hold hands and walk home together now?"

"No."

"But you just said–"

"I know. But I'm still in costume and I'm pretty sure Courtney will murder me if I steal it. I've got to change first."

"I can help with that."


End file.
